


Arbor Lodge

by merry_amelie



Series: Academic Arcadia [82]
Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Alternate Reality, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-07-18
Updated: 2006-07-18
Packaged: 2018-02-07 17:37:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1907865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merry_amelie/pseuds/merry_amelie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Adirondacks in July.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Arbor Lodge

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback: Is treasured at merryamelie@aol.com (or leave a comment).
> 
> Disclaimer: Mr. Lucas owns everything Star Wars. I'm not making any money.
> 
> For  
> My beta team: Nerowill, Emila-Wan, and Carol  
> Mali Wane for posting  
> My former betas: Alex and Ula

The Adirondacks were the ideal choice for Ian and Quinn's summer vacation this year. They'd camped there as boys, and were eager to visit as a couple for the first time.

Many ski lodges were also year-round resorts, capitalizing on their scenic beauty to draw visitors, and they were newly arrived at just such a place: Arbor Lodge, which boasted clay tennis courts, indoor and outdoor pools, walking trails, and two lakes -- one for motorboating, one for swimming. All sheltered by miles of woodland.

Their room was on the main floor of the lodge, and had a private patio in back, looking out to the forest. One king-sized bed dominated the room, with a TV on the dresser, a couch near the window, and two nightstands with lamps. Sliding doors led to the patio, and a double set of curtains admitted as much or as little sun as was wanted.

They had packed light for these rustic surroundings, basically jeans, shorts, and t-shirts. They'd thrown jackets in the back seat of the Audi, knowing that nights in the high country were chilly even in July.

The men were still flying from their Independence Day party, just a week earlier. It had been a lively warm-up for their vacation. The family had given them a pocket telescope as a send-off on their holiday. After all, the stars blazed brightest in the mountains.

The first thing Quinn did was to open the patio door to welcome the cool air. Ian ambled up to join him, arm quick to snug around his husband's waist.

"How 'bout a walk? Been sitting in the car too long." Ian brushed his cheek over the evening stubble on Quinn's chin.

"Sounds good, lad." Quinn closed the door behind them, and was pleased to find that there was a trail by the side of the lodge, not twenty yards from their room.

Squinting into the six o' clock sun, the men had the congenial company of a chipmunk until they stepped onto the path, when it scampered up a tree. Hand in hand, they started up the trail at a leisurely pace.

The squint highlighted Quinn's crinkles when he smiled at Ian, who just had to stop for a kiss that instant. Ian reached up to take his kiss, Quinn's hands gripping his upper arms with possessive pleasure. Their tongues sought the flavor of the iced coffee they'd had on the road, while Quinn pulled Ian closer still.

Unlike their Father's Day kiss on a sunny June bike path, this time they did not have a hidden audience to see the spark in their eyes. After a lingering taste, they linked fingers once more and continued on their way.

They strolled through the pine forest, sun and shade courting them in turn. A lark sang above them, while squirrels darted up and down tree trunks as if they'd lapped coffee as well.

After about an hour of pleasant rambling, the men headed back to the lodge. They stripped off each other's sweat-heavy clothes, and started a series of teasing suckles and nips over their newly exposed chests.

Ian pushed Quinn down on the bed to better tease him. Quinn's groans told him it was working. Already, Ian had licked most of the sweat off Quinn, but new perspiration was quick to appear, thanks to Ian's knowing caresses. Quinn's fingers burrowed into his hair as Ian glazed his chest with saliva, bringing Ian up to his mouth when he couldn't wait any longer for a kiss.

Quinn could see the love in his lad's eyes before Ian's mouth touched his own tenderly. Generous as ever with his kisses, Ian teased Quinn with them as he prepared him for their loving. He was using a new travel-size tube that was a bit of a challenge to open one-handed, and had Quinn chuckling at his antics, even through a haze of desire. He treated that sensitive spot on Quinn's lower left jaw to a flurry of little licks just as he was set for entry.

Ian slid in on a wave of joy, eyes locked on Quinn's to savor every reaction and intensify it. He couldn't reach Quinn's lips in this position, but suckled his taut neck until Quinn's words became moans. The fire in Quinn's eyes impelled Ian to a hard, driving pace that he sustained until Quinn's hips jerked just the right way.

Their cries of pleasure blended in unique melody as Quinn caught Ian in his trembling arms. Their breathing slowed while Ian wrapped himself even closer, breath hot over the patch of jaw he'd tantalized earlier. They fell asleep just like that.

* * *

They woke up to the sun, sweat and love gluing them together nicely. Ian started to disentangle, feeling his chafed skin pull against Quinn's. He patted the reddened skin as tenderly as he'd kissed Quinn before. "Dibs on the shower," he said as he ambled to the bathroom.

Quinn's reaction was muffled by the quilt when he turned over and started to doze.

When both had washed, they set out for breakfast. The ice and vending machines were in an alcove down the hallway, near enough for convenience, far enough to be inaudible from their room. The dining room was a large, airy place with windows looking out on forest.

Ian and Quinn sat at a wooden table by a window, scanning the menu hungrily. They ordered French toast with vanilla maple syrup, and leaned back to look at the greenery.

"It's so relaxing here," Ian said, tapping his coffee cup.

"I can see that, lad," Quinn answered with a twinkle.

Ian chuckled. "Guess I'll never be as laid-back as you."

"And why should you be?" Quinn stroked Ian's wrist with his thumb.

Ian smiled. "What would you like to do after breakfast?"

Quinn thought for a moment. "Let's sit on the patio." The two Adirondack chairs there called to him, reminding him of those they'd enjoyed in Windover on their honeymoon.

Despite the hearty portions, they ate every bit of their French toast, dragging it around the plate to soak up the syrup. Since meals were included, they didn't have to fuss with a bill, but left a few dollars as a tip.

Their private patio welcomed them with a breeze and the creak of their chairs as they settled in.

Ian looked up at the leaf-fringed sky. "That cloud looks like the abstract sculpture next to Wookly."

"Nah. The sculpture's worse." Quinn grinned.

Unable to argue the point, Ian conceded with a nod. He reached over to lace fingers with Quinn. They drifted into a reverie, basking in the July morning.

Ian's words roused Quinn. "How 'bout a swim now?"

Quinn lazily looked at his watch. An hour and a half had breezed by since breakfast. "Pool or lake?"

"Lake. The last time I swam in a lake was at camp."

Quinn loved to hear Ian's sleepaway camp stories, since he'd never been to one himself. Quinn recalled that Ian had pretended to be a Brandybuck one fine summer when he was eleven.

They kept their t-shirts on but changed into trunks, taking bath and beach towels with them. The lakeshore was already dotted with colorful rectangles, the grass slick with water. They dropped their towels in the shade of an oak tree, well away from the other guests, and took off their shirts and sneakers.

The water was still a bit cool, yet to be warmed by the afternoon sun, but the men liked it that way after sweating in the summer heat. They couldn't see the bottom, as they had in their ocean swims, but felt the mud yielding under their toes. A sign said that the maximum depth was five feet, a tipoff that it was a man-made lake, as was its circular shape.

That didn't make it any less enjoyable for swimming, though, and they set right to it. It was nice not to feel concrete and tile against their feet for a change, and to smell the pine trees instead of chlorine. Just as at pools, the majority of people were sunbathing rather than swimming, so the men had room to do their laps. The crawl was Quinn's favorite, while Ian preferred the sidestroke. They kept to a more leisurely pace than they used in lap lanes, relaxing into this beautiful setting.

After losing count of laps, their towels started to look good so they rinsed away the mud with the hose provided, dried off and lay on the two beach blankets they'd pulled together. They didn't bother with sunscreen with the cool leaves over them.

"This is even better than camp." Ian turned on his side to smile into Quinn's eyes.

"Happy to hear it, lad." Quinn's grin came out to play.

"Must be the company," Ian drawled.

Quinn could feel Ian's breath against his cheek and savored the tickle. There they were on a public shore, where no one could mistake them for anything but a couple, and Quinn felt perfectly at ease.

"Can you imagine being at camp together?" Ian asked impishly.

"Just two hobbits at play, huh?" Quinn matched Ian tease for tease.

"Exactly! Ian Brandybuck at your service." Ian gave Quinn a jaunty salute.

"And Quinn Burrows at yours." Quinn returned his salute with relish.

Ian dropped his voice to a whisper. "Funny, you look like you're one of the Goodbodies to me."

Quinn started laughing and Ian joined in helplessly. After a charged glance, they put on their shirts and sneakers and headed for their room.

As soon as Ian had locked the door, Quinn kissed his teasing lips. "Goodbody, eh?"

"Oh, yeah! And now you can show me what I've been missing all mornin'." Ian worked on Quinn's damp trunk laces impatiently, breath quickening when Quinn started to help him, big hands engulfing his as they lowered the swimsuit together.

Ian's hand was on Quinn before the trunks hit the carpet. "Definitely Goodbody," Ian said breathlessly.

"Wanna see yours too," said Quinn huskily, raising Ian's hand to his lips for a kiss, then pawing off Ian's t-shirt as if it were no more than a handkerchief. He finally stepped out of his swimsuit, holding Ian's gaze while he did so.

Ian reached out to the water-darkened hem of Quinn's shirt, and pulled it over his head in one smooth motion. "All this for me?" Ian trailed possessive fingers over an interested nipple.

Quinn nodded distractedly, staring at the luscious chest in front of him. He didn't bother unlacing Ian's trunks; he just pulled them down, enjoying Ian's wriggling under his hands.

Quinn dropped to his knees, following the path of the swimsuit, while hearing Ian's quick intake of breath. His husband was more than ready for him by now. The first taste left him searching for more, which his fingers soon coaxed from a groaning Ian.

"Please!" Ian all but shouted.

Quinn engulfed Ian with his mouth as easily as he'd earlier engulfed Ian's hand. He let Ian buck against him, relishing his excitement. Ian was now almost too big for his mouth. Quinn teased him with a determined tongue, pressing a hot spot near the tip. Gushes of cream rewarded him, triggering his own release.

Ian dropped down into his arms, and they stayed on their knees, motionless for a long moment. They kissed, both enjoying Ian's familiar flavor. The bed looked a mile away, but somehow they wobbled there and fell on the sheets. Ian reached a boneless hand down to pull the quilt over them, and they were out in seconds.

* * *

They slept through lunch, Quinn cracking an eye open at about three o'clock. Hunger kept their kisses light, and their shower together was more playful than erotic.

Ian volunteered for an expedition to the vending machines to see what treats were in store, and came back with hands full of snacks: Fig Newtons, cheese and crackers, Hershey's Special Dark chocolate. Then Quinn went for some ice, and they washed them down with water from the tap as they lazed against the pillows. After their lovemaking and nap, it seemed like a feast.

Ian gave Quinn a chocolatey kiss. "Whaddya feel like now?"

"How 'bout some TV, then maybe a game of tennis?" Quinn licked his lips.

Ian clicked on the television, and they settled in to watch Fawlty Towers after they'd almost given up on finding anything worthwhile.

Then they dressed in fresh shirts and shorts, and headed off to the tennis courts. All of them were taken, but there was an hour limit on their use, so they only had to wait a few minutes until one became available. The red clay was scuffed at this hour, grains of it dusting the white lines.

Ian had learned his strokes at camp, Quinn at college. They started out with easy rallies, content to keep the ball in play, neglecting to keep score. Then Ian put a little mustard on one of his serves, and it became a free-for-all, enthusiasm trumping talent. By the end of the hour, they were both grinning as if they were Roddick and Federer.

Shirts plastered to their backs, socks coated in red dust, the men had to take showers again before swimming in the outdoor pool. Since it was dinnertime, the pool was nearly empty, and they took advantage of it with a series of sprinted laps first, then a bit of horseplay when Ian taught Quinn underwater somersaults and handstands. The buoyancy of the water was good for Quinn's gymnastic exploits, and soon he was able to walk on his hands almost as easily as Ian.

After about an hour, they rinsed in the poolside shower, dried off, and let the sun do the rest as they lounged in their trunks on deck chairs. Then they put on their shirts and sneakers, and ambled back to the lodge.

Ravenous, they went to dinner with their hair still damp. The sun, now low in the sky, made a lovely counterpoint to the lamp on their table.

"I'm getting the trout. Says it's from local waters." Quinn sipped his Perrier while looking at the menu.

Ian nodded. "Sounds good. I'll have it blackened."

"In the mood for spice, lad?" Quinn grinned.

"Always," Ian said with a wink.

They placed their orders, then relaxed into the seat cushions. Ian patted Quinn's fingers over the rolls, letting Quinn feel his calluses. Quinn took Ian's hand for a closer look.

"Ah, a new callus. Feels different than the one from your pen." He petted it gently, not wanting to irritate it further.

Ian gazed at Quinn, drinking in the sight of their joined hands in the crowded restaurant. He turned Quinn's hand in his own. "You've got another too." He pressed his callus to Quinn's.

"Guess we're getting battle-hardened." Quinn smiled down at their hands.

House salads arrived, drizzled with lime vinaigrette.

"There's an intramural doubles league at school. It'd be easier than trying to cover the court ourselves." Ian speared a cherry tomato.

"Good idea. I know that Case and Ethan play on Saturdays." Quinn exiled a radish to the side of his plate.

Ian whistled. "Can you imagine the competition?"

"Sure can! It's lucky that they're not into gymnastics, or we'd have a departmental war on our hands." Quinn chuckled into his water.

"I can just see it," Ian crowed. "What if we...?"

The trout came, barely in time to stave off Ian's war games. They added lemon and had at it.

"What would you like to do tomorrow?" Quinn asked between bites.

"Wanna try some waterskiing?" Ian gazed out at the setting sun.

Quinn looked doubtful. "Guess so. Don't know if I'll be able to do it, though."

"No worries. You've got good balance. You'll be fine." Ian smiled reassuringly.

When they'd finished the last crumb, Quinn left the tip and they strolled to their room. Quinn saw the telescope on the dresser when he put down his keycard.

"In the mood for a bit of stargazing, lad?"

"Love to," Ian said, looking at Quinn as if he were his own private nova.

Quinn got their jackets, putting his own on first, then tenderly wrapping Ian in warmth. Quinn's embrace was warmer than the jacket, as was the kiss that inevitably followed.

They walked out to the patio, and Quinn scanned the sky for jewels to share with his husband. Orion was already on the hunt, Rigel blazing blue for them. Quinn handed the telescope to Ian, positioning it for him, and watched as he grinned in delight.

Then Quinn saw Pegasus, the winged horse flying through the night sky. He changed the angle of the telescope for Ian, hearing his sigh of pleasure at the wintry beauty of the stars. Quinn hugged Ian from behind, kissing his tousled hair. Contentment kept them out there despite the growing chill.

They went back in shivering, muscles aching from their games. After putting on their pajamas, they settled carefully into bed and fell asleep after a few kisses.

* * *

Ian woke up to a robin's song. He stretched, to find that sleep had relaxed his overworked muscles. When his husband stirred, Ian started massaging his legs, savoring Quinn's sighs of satisfaction.

"Feels good, lad. Thanks." Quinn reached out to grab Ian, and began a complementary massage on his arms.

Massage turned into loveplay as searching fingers became teasing ones. Pajamas and boxer briefs ended up on the floor, thrown from the bed by impatient hands. Quinn pulled Ian completely on top of him and started to move.

"Yeah, that's it," Ian mumbled into Quinn's shoulder, concentrating on rubbing Quinn to the rhythm he'd set.

"Ahhhh!" Quinn lost it with Ian's next kiss.

Ian took a little longer, but when Quinn flicked his dimple with a hot tongue, it was all over.

They dozed for a while before taking a shower, then dressed in their uniform of t-shirts and trunks for waterskiing. They stopped for a quick breakfast of oatmeal, and headed to a lake slightly farther from the lodge, where the motorboats whined.

A spotter handed them lifejackets that they fastened with no problem, remembering the lessons on their cruises. Ian went first, since he'd had some experience.

He put his feet into the rubber casings, and grabbed the pull bar, listening to the engine rev. Raising his hand in the 'go' sign, he was pulled smoothly to a standing position behind the boat, following its trail across the water. Knees slightly bent, he relaxed into the ride. His feet remembered to swing out on the turn, angling to the right of the boat now. He thrilled in skimming over the water at high speed. Twice around the lake, and the rush was over all too soon as the shore came up fast, with Quinn waving excitedly.

Ian stayed in the water to show Quinn exactly what to do. When his skis were on, pull bar in hand, Ian got out of the way, sitting on the grass at the lake's edge. He gave Quinn a thumbs-up, and watched as he signalled the driver.

Quinn was pulled up, but couldn't keep his skis together and fell into the water when they skidded too far apart. The skis came off as they were designed to do for safety, and he had to swim to retrieve them. Gamely, he set up for his second try at it, looking over at Ian for encouragement. This time, he stayed up until the boat made its first turn. Although Ian had tried to show him how to swing around, it was hard to master.

Since there was a line of people behind him, Quinn decided to throw in the ski for the day. He certainly wasn't enjoying himself anyway, though he'd liked watching Ian waterski. The broad grin on his face as he'd raced by Quinn had invigorated both of them.

After drying off and putting on their shirts, they started to walk back to the lodge.

"Not bad for your first time." Ian's cheeks still had a fine sheen of water on them.

Leave it to Ian to see the positive, Quinn thought fondly. "Don't like it much," he admitted.

"No worries. We've got better things to do. We'll try anything you want this afternoon."

"Well, I'm in an adventurous mood," Quinn drawled. "I'd like to see if I can win a splash war in the pool this time."

Ian snorted. "Of course you can't."

They stopped back at their room for a much-needed shower. Their skin felt a bit greasy, not surprising because of the oil residue on the lake. Once they'd scrubbed it away, they rubbed against one another contentedly, happy just to feel each other after all their vacation lovemaking.

Luckily Ian, old camper that he was, had packed extra clothes for them, knowing that they would change more than usual with all of the swimming they'd be doing.

A fresh set of shirts and shorts later, the men went to lunch and had chicken salad club sandwiches with pineapple juice.

"These are almost as good as that little place in Windover," Quinn said after washing down a bite with juice.

"Mmm-hmm." Ian munched happily, punctuated by a potato chip or two.

"Why are all the good sandwich shops hours away?" Quinn's rhetorical question was ignored by both of them as they continued to clean their plates.

The first droplets of rain skittered on the window facing them.

"Guess it's the indoor pool today," said the ever-practical Ian.

"We'll still be able to get in a few good splashes." Quinn's eyes shone intensely blue.

Ian left the tip this time, and they set off for their room. They curled up on the bed, lucky enough to find a performance of Ode to Joy on the local public television channel. After some lazy snuggling, they put on their shirts and swimsuits, snagging some towels from the bathroom on the way out.

The indoor pool complex had blue tiles and a sun roof, a sad misnomer at the moment. It was crowded with guests who would have opted for the lakes or outdoor pool otherwise. No laps for Quinn and Ian that afternoon. They claimed their own little patch by a ladder, and practiced arm lifts holding onto the wall. Good exercise, especially when they did fifty reps apiece in groups of ten. With just a shared glance, they called off their splashing contest. Too many people surrounding them would get caught in the spray.

Later on, the men treaded water, sometimes joining hands to do it together. They tried to outwait the crowds but the pool remained packed, so they finally gave up and went back to their room, after drying perfunctorily.

Their joint shower was by far the most fun they had in the water that day. They'd had time to recharge by now, their cleaning eroticized from the first touch. Ian did what he'd wanted to do in the pool, running his hands over Quinn's wet shoulders and arms in a hypnotic glide. Quinn tipped up Ian's chin so he could give him a wet kiss, then licked a trail down his chest, deflecting the spray of the shower.

Quinn growled when Ian's hips started to move involuntarily, seeking his larger frame. He gave Ian what he wanted, surging into his arms, bodies blended from lips to legs. Deep, plundering kisses fueled their thrusts until they added their own spurts to the spray.

"Ah, laddie," Quinn said, reveling in the feel of Ian's strong arms holding him up, and doing the same for Ian.

"Love you." Ian nuzzled into wet whiskers.

After a moment, they washed off again, then napped before dinner. Quinn woke first and went to the bathroom, careful not to wake a snoring Ian. He dressed in jeans for the evening, trying to find fresh socks in the low light. He turned on the lamp over the desk to write a postcard to Bant, picking one with a lake view. By the time he'd finished, Ian was up and grinning at him.

"Nice vacation," Ian murmured. He padded over to look at the postcard, adding a line or two and his signature.

"Too bad we're leaving tomorrow." Quinn pulled Ian in for a squeeze.

"Home's good too," Ian said lazily, dropping a kiss on Quinn's hair.

Quinn patted Ian's stomach. "Ready for dinner?"

"Yeah." Ian rummaged in his duffel for something to wear.

They walked to the restaurant with Quinn's arm over Ian's shoulders. The middle-aged couple who'd played tennis on the next court over waved to them as they went by. They'd slept through the dinner rush, and were able to get a table by the window again. The rain was still pounding the grass, making their meal even cozier.

The men chose the striped bass for dinner, this time glazed in a lemon sherry sauce. They clinked their chardonnay glasses, toasting another wonderful vacation together.

"Next year Lelia will be three, old enough for the day camp here. Perhaps Kathy and Monty and my folks would like to come up." Ian took a second sip of wine.

"Good idea, lad. They'd enjoy it. They're broiling in the city too much these days." Quinn dipped a garlic stick in olive oil.

They'd ordered French onion soup that night, liquid warmth against the rainy weather. The waitress brought their crocks over and grated pepper atop them.

The cheese defeated Quinn's best efforts at good manners, as long strings of it finally found their way to his mouth. Ian started chuckling at this uncharacteristic display and joined in with his own shenanigans, careful not to go too far with others close by.

All of these antics left them eating longer than usual, so that the entrees came almost immediately upon their last spoonful. The bass was even more to their taste than the trout of the previous night.

"The fish out here is much better than at the restaurants at home." Ian took an enthusiastic bite.

Quinn sipped his wine slowly. "Guess we're used to it frozen first."

Ian nodded. "Can't believe I have a committee meeting tomorrow," he said plaintively.

Quinn sighed. "And I've got to see Case about that ordering screw-up on my Milton text for next semester."

"At least rain's in the forecast all week, so it's a good time to go home." Ian's grin reasserted itself.

Quinn couldn't help smiling back. "Too true." After tipping the waitress, he took a last sip of water.

They went to the lobby, grabbing a few brochures from the rack for the family. Then they headed off to their room. Down to their boxer briefs, they snuggled under the quilt, cheeks kissing as they had when Jo first saw them together, and fell asleep for the night.

They dreamt of two boys playing in the water.


End file.
